


the lights are on (there's nobody home)

by Anonymous



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anorexic Lance (Voltron), Bulimia, Eating Disorders, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Whump, Self-Hatred, Trans Lance (Voltron), Trans Male Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:48:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23160481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: lance was ill. why wasn't he acknowledging it?-purposeful lower case useage
Comments: 9
Kudos: 111
Collections: anonymous





	1. and his bones are frail

**Author's Note:**

> hiya, it's me, only posting when i wanna vent!!
> 
> -
> 
> the writing style changes every part of this lol as what is consistency eh

his breath smelt sickly sweet, like gummy bears melted under the hot sun (sticking to the tarmac like glue, unmovingly sickening), sugary with undertones of vomit (like he'd binged and then fallen apart, shoving his fingers down his throat, too far, too far) and hot and sticky and heavy (as though he'd run a marathon but no, he was still there in his bed).

his skin was greying (like coffee beans, ground up and mixed with ash, as though the blood in his veins had been drained, leaving little behind), lips chapped and bleeding (as though he hadn't had anything to drink in days, stuck in desert, drowning in the lack of water) and eyes unfocused (dull, like he was seeing something on another plane of reality far away from the bed he was in).

his hair was brittle (it looked like it could snap if someone ran their fingers through it, the opposite to what it usually was), the usual shine dull (matching his eyes, the life sucked out of him) and his skin was dry (peeling, cracking, so vastly unlike his usual complexion).

his body was sunken in (the lithe muscles wasting away as he lay in his bed), his collarbones sharp (like daggers sharp beneath his papery skin, almost cutting though) and his stomach was concave (as though he'd been starved for so long that he was beginning to consume himself).

lance was ill. even if he didn't believe it.


	2. theres a pain whilst he breathes but he ignores it as it will fade away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an unwanted part two to this

he is taking off his trousers but he feels cold, so fucking cold, and he can feel every single hair being forced the wrong way. 

the sound of plastic from cotton sounds so sharp in the silent room, a reminder of what he has forced to be and what he has decided to become. 

he sits in the shower, turning the temperature up so high that his arms feel like they are burning and that he is bleeding again but he is so cold that he can't stop himself from crying as the water pelts on his body. 

the water beneath him is red then orange then clear as the rains wash away what he is forced to remember as his arms sting, his head throbs and his abdomen cramps. 

he stumbles out of the shower, now feeling like he is burning but then he is freezing then burning then freezing and the hair on his body continue to be forced the wrong way and it hurts in a way that he cannot describe to anyone else, but it hurts him. 

the hands that are dressing him do not feel like his own but he can see that they are his own and that he is just being stupid again so he takes out the scales and steps on. 

151.6 pounds. 

one hundred and fifty one point six pounds. 

too heavy, too worthless, not fucking good enough, never fucking good enough and he screams into his hands, wailing as he knows that if he bites down hard enough no-one will hear him.

and in his mind, half-faded memories of a life before space, of green-marked Bs and red-marked Es and explaining himself to the lecturer over and over again trying to explain he tried really fucking hard he just found it too difficult and that he would do better next time, just give him another chance, he'd do better next time, until there were no more next times and he was racing away up to the stars. if you scream in space, nobody can hear you.

no-one will ever hear him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, i'm not doing to well i guess


	3. isolation complete

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so. if you can't tell the vibes are not here. wheres the mental health. gimme.

trapped in.

he was trapped in. 

he never really felt like he was trapped (even when surrounded by his family) but (maybe it was the lack of them there or) maybe it was the fact that he could not go outside.

he didn't talk to the others about this. 

he couldn't. 

he had to remain the way he'd always been. 

the joker. 

the funny one who was always laughing and never sad. 

he knew he was gaining. no matter how much he trained or tried to restrain himself, he would be back at 160 and would be right back to the fucking drawing board. 

it was better when he was at the garrison with no way for him to attempt to get extra food so he had to lose the weight but now he was gaining and gaining and gaining as he ate and ate and ate and ate and nobody stops him, nobody tries to stop him. 

nobody cares.

as soon as the lull of the castleship turns into the mesh of war, he will be doing all he can to stop himself.

he'd be distracted, he needs distractions to stop him from doing everything he shouldn't.

binging.

then purging away the fucking supplies they all need to fucking survive.

he was fucking disgusting.

but he wouldn't allow himself to die until they'd freed everyone. 

most days that was the only thing keeping him going.

the light at the end of a dark tunnel.

the knowledge that maybe, just maybe, he would be able to do something to keep his family safe for years to come.

even if he himself was too useless to help them directly.

that was his promise.


	4. and who is she and why is she there when he breaks the glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it might be the first of april but my breakdowns stop for no date.

they're looking at him. 

they are looking at him. 

they. 

are. 

looking. 

at. 

him. 

his chest. 

his body. 

everything. 

there was a time when he was not lance. 

he was taylor. 

she was taylor. 

and lance could pick out every part of taylor that he hated. 

her hair that was too long. 

her breasts that were too big. 

her waist that was too small. 

her hips that were too large. 

her nose that was just too fucking delicate. 

her eyebrows that were just too far south. 

and she was she but he his he and there is no way for them to coexist. 

he has bad days every so often (or possible just often, he loses track of time so easily when there are no clear days and nights) where he stays in his room and he thinks about her and the way that he could still see her in the mirror if he let himself look too closely.

in space, no one can hear you when you scream.

or cry.

or do anything.

he felt isolated even though there were others only a few doors away from him.

how was he so lonely when there were so many people?

and on the bad days, he would sit on his bed with his music sounding in his ears, the classical altean music soothing him and quieting his thoughts as he rubbed at his wrists, clawed at his wrists and bit down his nails until they were sharp and jagged before digging back in and leaving lines and lines and lines and lines down his arms which wouldn't bleed - never bleed - only sting and flake and dry.

on those days he'd think about everything.

home.

family.

the garrison.

being to fucking stupid to do anything.

being the one who couldn't sit still for a few minutes, who always had to be figeting and moving and not still.

having Iverson yelling in his face for the fourth time that week and it was only tuesday and he could feel the spit flecking onto his face as he failed a simulator or a test even though he tried so fucking hard but he was overwhelmed like a pot with a lid that was bubbling up and up and up and up and up until the pressure grew too much and it bursts open, steam and water flying everywhere.

it wasn't like he was needed.

to be completely honest, he could die and nobody would know or really care. 

he has siblings, a sister and two brothers, so he really is not needed when there are others in his family who were better than him and would succeed more.

he was like a leech sucking his family dry.

even in space he was doing it, he was sure of that.

the garrison would still be demanding his fucking 'tuition' money from them and they may even be looking for him.

what a fucking disgrace.


	5. author's note

TW: self-harm, suicide and EDs

i've not written anything for this fic in a while.

it isn't because i've gotten better but because i've gotten worse.

i feel like i should preface it with saying that this isn't due to lockdown or anything like that but more of with myself.

i've been struggling with EDNOS for a long time now and it's taken over my life again so much that all i think about is eating or purging or how many calories i can allow myself before i'm binging or what i can do to make it so i eat less than other people in my family.

for a while now i've also been struggling with self-harm and i attempted suicide about three months ago where i obviously failed. i still want to commit but currently i can't because if i do my family will be the ones to find my body. 

earlier on in the fic that weight was my own and my own thoughts in response. i'm now smaller but i still feel just as shitty and disgusting as before because i'm not as small as i want to be.

i'm failing my exams and all my work, especially because the final exams have been cancelled and i don't think i'm going to be getting into university any time soon.

i made this fic anon because some people i know follow my account here.

i don't really know why i'm writing this for anything other than the fact that i'm struggling right now and to not expect anything to come out of this fic because i don't know what's going on with me anymore.

i'm hoping that anyone who reads this is okay and have people who love and cherish them and that you are all doing well and are safe.

-Harley


End file.
